


Kiss for the Camera

by runtheduels



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League - All Media Types
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:26:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runtheduels/pseuds/runtheduels
Summary: The world knows that Clark and Bruce are dating before they do.





	Kiss for the Camera

“I don’t think Bruce Wayne is really as dull as he acts. Say, Kent, what do you think?”

Clark stared down at his coffee, avoiding Lois’s eyes. “What would I know?”

“Come on, don’t be like that.” She punched his arm playfully. “Ow. I’ve seen you with him before. You must be friends.”

Yeah, and Bruce was going to kill him when he found out that they had been seen together without the costumes. It had taken so much convincing to get Bruce to hang out with him as _Clark and Bruce_ , and now it had placed their identities in jeopardy. He mumbled, “I just know him from work, like you.”

“Yet _I’ve_ never had a special inside scoop with him. Not to mention that you look mortified every time I mention him.”

It was true, but none of this had been a problem until recently. He’d occasionally hear Bruce’s name, and Clark would simply smile and nod and try not to think, _That’s Batman, my best friend_.

“Plus, you talk about him all the time.”

“I don’t talk about him _all_ the time.”

But for the past two weeks, Lois had been working on a piece titled “Bruce Wayne: Billionaire Playboy or Something More?”, and she would not get off Clark’s case about it. He’d tried to talk her out of writing the story, but once Lois Lane was set on something, she would get her way, obstacles be damned.

“Wait… oh my god,” she whispered, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Clark, you jerk! How could you not tell me?”

This was the end. Lois would publish an article: “Superman and Batman: Behind the Masks.” He’d hear a knock on his apartment door in the dead of night, and when he swung it open, Bruce would be standing there holding a lead-lined box. Clark would ask him to tell Ma that he loved her, and that would be the end. He only hoped that his death would be quick.

“You two… you’re _dating_!”

Clark choked on his spit. “ _What_?”

Lois slapped his shoulder. “Why didn’t you just _tell_ me?”

“I… I…” He gaped at her like a fish out of water.

“Whatever. I’m happy for you.” She downed the last of her coffee and stood up. “Can’t hide anything from me, Smallville.”

Clark continued to stare stupidly, uncomprehending of what just happened. “N-No, I suppose not.”

 

* * *

 

“You _what_?”

Clark raised his hands defensively at Bruce’s snarling expression. “I didn’t exactly _tell_ her. I just… didn’t deny it when she asked…” He trailed off, realizing how pathetic the excuse sounded.

“And why would you do that?”

“Because she was suspicious about our identities. I didn’t know what to say to get her off our trail.”

“I assume you’ll clear this up yourself.”

Clark hesitated. “Well, uh, actually, I thought we could just… pretend.”

Bruce stared at him for a long time with an unreadable expression. Clark kind of wished he could melt into the ground.

Finally, _finally_ , Bruce dully stated, “You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

Clark tugged at the collar of his shirt and cleared his throat. “Well, I mean—”

“Clark, god help me, I have done many things for you. I have lied, risked my life, taken a _bullet_. But if you think I’m going to _date_ you, of all things…”

“Pretend to,” Clark corrected, receiving a glower in response. “Look, if I tell her we’re not dating, she’s going to try and figure out what I was really hiding.”

“Then tell her it’s one-sided. Don’t involve me in this.”

“You know Lois. She’ll just make a scene trying to set us up instead. Plus, I’m not going to pretend I have a crush on you. It’s embarrassing.”

Suddenly amused, Bruce asked, “You’d rather be in a relationship with me?”

Clark flushed red and covered his face with his hands. “No, that’s not—that’s not what I meant. Just—” Locking eyes with Bruce, he fixed his face with a sincere expression. “For Lois, okay? Only for Lois.”

“‘Breaking News: Billionaire CEO Dates Lowly Reporter.’”

He pouted. “I’m not lowly.”

“I’d be dating my own employee.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Bruce’s lips curled into a tiny smile. “Fair enough. I’ll do it.”

“Wait.” Clark’s eyes widened. “Really?”

He shrugged. “Like you said. To protect our identities. As long as Lois doesn’t broadcast this to the world.”

Clark grinned a little wider than he meant to. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

“You disobeyed orders.”

Clark pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “I did what I thought was necessary. And clearly, it _was_.”

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. “I can take care of myself, Clark. I don’t need you to swoop in and save me on every mission, as if I’m some damsel in distress.”

“I’ve never thought of you like that. But you’re my _friend_. If something happened to you because I wasn’t there—”

“I’m on my own every day in Gotham. I don’t need you.”

Clark glanced around. “Look, can we not do this here?”

They were seated at the café in Metropolis that they had been frequenting as of late. It was fairly low profile, but that didn’t mean Clark wanted to make a scene.

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Fine. It looks like our food is ready, anyway. I’ll go get it.”

He returned a minute later with the tray. Just as he was approaching the table, Clark noticed a slick area on the floor out of the corner of his eye. Hurriedly, he said, “Watch out, there’s—”

Before he could get the words out, Bruce slipped on the spot and plummeted toward the ground.

Clark was on his feet in an instant to catch him, but not before he slipped on the spot, too. He tried to stop the fall by grabbing the table, but it flipped over as the tray clattered loudly to the floor.

Next thing he knew, Bruce was on top of him, and a shutter sound clicked off nearby.

Every eye in the café was on the two of them, with hushed whispers of: “Is that Bruce Wayne?” “Who’s that guy he’s with?”

“Looks like Bruce Wayne’s having a secret rendezvous,” a voice behind Bruce announced, and a phone was shoved in Clark’s face. “With some no name guy.”

Clark babbled, “N-No, I’m not, we’re not—” while Bruce remained unmoving, staring down at him in barely concealed horror.

Frantically pushing Bruce off of himself, Clark tried to clarify, “We’re not in a relationship. I was just… was just interviewing him.”

“Oh yeah?” the person behind the phone challenged. “Where’s your clipboard? Your audio recorder?”

Clark helplessly looked over to Bruce for answers, but when none were given, Clark spluttered, “We have to go. I mean, I have to go. Not we. We don’t leave together. I… I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

 

* * *

 

The next day at work, things were anything but peaceful. People were relentlessly crowding Clark, asking, “How long have you known Mr. Wayne?” “Are you two really dating?”

Clark waved off all the questions and attempted to focus on his work.

Somehow, Lois managed to barge her way through the crowd. He was actually relieved to see her until she slammed a newspaper on his desk.

"Bruce Wayne in Relationship with Daily Planet Journalist," the headline read. And, of course, the picture of Bruce atop him was plastered across the page.

“You don’t look too happy, Smallville,” Lois pointed out, speaking above the commotion.

 _Because he’s my friend. Because we’re not dating. Because he’ll murder me when he sees this. Because this is all my fault._ “Because it wasn’t supposed to be public,” he settled for.

She shrugged, giving him a sympathetic look. “What’s done is done. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. I just wish these people would leave me alone.”

“That, I can fix.” With a smirk, she turned around and bellowed, “This is Lois Lane, star reporter at the Daily Planet. If you don’t want to give you so much bad press that you’ll be on the streets, I suggest you scram.”

The crowd quickly dispersed with a cluster of grumbles.

Clark looked up at her and gave her a weak smile. “Thanks, Lois.”

She walked past him, patting his back comfortingly. “Anytime, Kent.”

 

* * *

 

Bruce slapped a newspaper on the table. Of course, it was the same one that Lois had shown him.

“Yeah, I know.” They were having lunch together, but at a different place this time. He peered up at Bruce, who looked strangely… not angry. “If you’re going to kill me, there's no need to drag it out.”

“I’m not mad, Clark.”

“And why did we even meet in public if you—wait, what?”

“I said, I’m not mad. It's not your fault.”

Clark stared at Bruce as if he’d just grown another head. “I thought you’d be furious about the whole thing.”

Bruce shrugged. “I was at first, but, turns out it isn’t bad press. In fact, it wouldn’t be bad if we made the front page again.

Perhaps Clark’s Kryptonian powers were finally wearing off, because he was almost certain that his superhearing did not hear that properly. “Are you saying you want to _keep this up_?”

Shrugging again, he nonchalantly offered, “I can split the profit with you if you want.”

“What—no—Bruce! I don’t want your money. Are you serious?”

Bruce leveled a sincere look at him. “I’m trying to make ends meet. This is helping me do that. But if you’re this uncomfortable being seen with a guy, let’s cut the act.”

Clark stared at him incredulously. “You seriously think that I—that’s _not_ what I meant at all! I’ve been with guys before; of course I don’t care about being seen with a guy.”

Shock colored Bruce’s face, and he stared like he was seeing Clark anew. Clark kind of wished he hadn’t said anything.

“If that’s a problem with you, I can—”

“I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry.”

Clark diverted his gaze. “No, it’s… you didn’t know.” After a pause, he added, “I’ll do it if you want. The whole fake dating thing.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Hey,” Clark said, hesitantly placing a hand on Bruce’s arm. “We were already doing this act with Lois. Plus, you’re my best friend. I doubt spending a few more hours with you will be too horrible.”

Bruce looked like he was suppressing a smile as he said, “Agreed.”

 

* * *

 

It had been a week or so since they had gone public about their ‘relationship.’ At first, nothing much had really changed. They continued to hang out in public, except Bruce didn’t disguise himself from the paparazzi anymore. They still talked about the usual things, joked, and bickered like friends.

Or _like a married couple_ , as Wally liked to say. Clark chuckled lightly at the memory.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Then, Clark’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as Bruce reached across the table and laced his fingers in Clark’s.

“B-Bruce, what—” Clark spluttered, turning beet red.

Bruce smiled warmly at him, and then a camera clicked in the background.

Clark gave a sideways look at the paparazzi. “Oh.” He didn’t know why, but a part of him felt disappointed that it was just an act for the camera.

The smile on Bruce’s face lingered briefly before he withdrew his hand. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” he teased.

“Oh, go away,” Clark replied with a smirk, though the hollow feeling in his chest persisted. His hand still felt warm where Bruce had touched it.

 

* * *

 

“How long have you two been together?”

Bruce and Clark had been relentlessly pestered by the paparazzi until they finally agreed to an exclusive interview. Well, Bruce had agreed, and Clark had given him a _what the hell do you think you’re doing_ look, to which Bruce had responded with a _relax, just let me handle it_ look.

“Four months,” Bruce answered without missing a beat.

“Oh, so it’s a serious relationship?”

“You could call it that.”

Clark mentally scoffed at the idea of anyone pinning Bruce down for that long.

A few questions later, the interviewer concluded, “Thank you for your time. Give us a kiss for the camera?”

Clark froze. He slowly looked over at Bruce, who met his gaze with an unreadable expression.

Well, they couldn’t refuse, could they?

He watched Bruce’s expression, looking for any sign telling him what to do, but his face remained stoic.

So Clark leaned over, placed one hand on the back of Bruce’s neck and the other on his waist, and pressed his lips to Bruce’s. He saw Bruce shut his eyes, then felt the soft taste of Bruce’s lips against his own. He heard a heart hammering, but he couldn’t tell if it was Bruce’s or his own. And, frankly, in that moment he didn’t care.

Then, he realized that he’d been kissing Bruce for way too long and quickly pulled back. They made brief eye contact before Clark awkwardly diverted his eyes.

The interviewer gave a thumbs up, then disabled the camera. “Again, thanks for your time.”

Clark opened his mouth to respond, but his voice caught in his throat.

“No problem,” Bruce responded for him, sounding slightly breathless.

 

* * *

 

“So when are you going to stop fiddling with your fork and look at me?”

Clark reluctantly placed the utensil down and met Bruce’s expectant gaze.

“Now will you tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing. I’m great. Fantastic, even.”

“Really. That must be why you fled after the interview and have been avoiding me since.”

“It’s just—I _kissed_ you, Bruce! Am I the only one who feels weird about this?”

A pause. “Was it weird?”

The question caught Clark off guard. “No. I mean, yeah. I don’t know. Shouldn’t it have been?”

Bruce looked at him for a long moment. “Do you want to stop this?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I can call up my agent. Tell them to kill the publicity on this.” His voice was sincere, and Clark wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“No, if all of this attention is helping your company, then—”

“This isn’t about me. What do you want?”

Actually, Clark wasn’t sure what he wanted. The same part of his brain that had told him to kiss Bruce was now screaming at him to stay, to tell Bruce how he felt an inexplicable happiness around him, that he always had, that he didn’t want to end this, that he wanted to be by Bruce’s side, always.

But a quieter, darker side of his brain reminded him that this—whatever this was—meant nothing to Bruce. It was just a publicity stunt. No matter how Clark felt about him, whatever this feeling was, Bruce would never feel the same way.

“I don’t know,” Clark finally said.

Bruce drew his lips into a thin line. “Okay.”

 

* * *

 

Superman punched a creature, sending it flying into the sky, all the while glancing back at the building behind him. There had been some sort of invasion, and Bruce hadn’t been specific on the details, just said that there were four bombs to disable and that Clark needed to guard the building. Clark had offered to fly the bombs out, but Bruce had said they were wired to explode if he tried to move them.

He had faith in Bruce’s wits, but disabling four bombs seemed like a lot even for him.

 _I can call in the Justice League_ , Clark had suggested.

 _No_ , Bruce had replied, _There’s no time. I don’t want to pull anyone else into this._

That hadn’t been very assuring. The constant, eerie tick of the timers wasn’t helping.

He punched another creature and asked over the comm link, “How much longer?”

“Two down,” Bruce said aloud, knowing that Clark would hear him. “Thirty seconds.”

Superman lasered through a swarm of creatures. “You need to get out of there, Batman.”

“I need more time.”

“We don’t—” Clark was cut off as a creature pulled him into a chokehold, and he flew backward into the wall to incapacitate it. “— _have_ more time,” he finished as he heard the timer tick down to fifteen. “Bruce.”

“One left,” Bruce reported, but there was a tone of panic in his voice.

“ _Bruce_ ,” Clark repeated more insistently.

8… 7… 6…

“Almost done.”

5… 4… 3…

“ _Bruce_!”

2… 1…

Clark broke away from the swarm of creatures and entered the building at lightning speed, grabbed Bruce, and flew out as far from the building as he could manage.

0.

There was a flash, the sound of an explosion, then nothing.

When Clark came to his senses, he found himself lying on the ground, rattled but uninjured. He looked over and saw a limp body lying nearby.

“No!” he shouted, rushing over to Bruce’s side. “Oh, god, no…”

Clark’s own body must have taken the brunt of the explosion because Bruce wasn’t completely scorched, but he had bright red burns all along his right side.

“Ung…” Bruce’s eyes were slit and his teeth tightly gritted. His eyes widened as he took in the burned landscape. “The bomb,” he whispered hoarsely.

Clark quickly scanned their surroundings, then turned back and put a hand over Bruce’s. “I think it only got us. The city’s safe.”

Bruce’s expression melted into relief for a moment, then contorted in pain as he curled in on himself.

“I’m going to get you to the Watchtower.”

“Wait.”

Clark looked at him, confused.

“If I don’t make it—”

“Don’t say that.”

“Let me _finish_. I want you to know that… the whole dating thing. It wasn’t fake to me.”

Clark wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he mumbled, “We… We’ve got to go.”

Bruce, for some reason, found that amusing because his mouth curled into a smile. A sad smile. “I know you don’t feel the same way. It’s okay. I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Bruce, I…” _Love you?_ Clark didn’t know, so he didn’t finish the sentence. He gingerly picked up Bruce and flew off.

 

* * *

 

Clark sat outside the Watchtower infirmary, wringing his hands nervously.

“Kal.”

He looked over to see Diana sitting next to him. “Hey.”

“What burdens you?”

“My teammate is in the hospital with third degree burns, for starters.”

Diana gave him a knowing look. “It must be more than that. Something has you thinking.”

“Surprised I have a brain underneath all the muscle?” He tried to smile, then gave up and sighed. “Bruce… he said something to me before I brought him here.” He paused, sucking in a deep breath. “He said that he has feelings for me.”

Diana blinked once, twice, unfazed. “And?”

“‘ _And_ ’? I just told you that Batman _likes_ me.”

Her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “I thought everyone knew that.”

“Well, it’s news to me,” he announced dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. Then, lowering his voice, he asked, “Wait, _everyone_?”

“It’s quite obvious. Why else would he go on _special missions_ with just the two of you? Or spend time with you in public despite claiming that protecting his identity takes precedence over anything? I could go on.”

Clark stared at her, mouth agape in realization. “Well… oh.”

“And I believe I’m correct in saying that you feel the same way.”

Clark leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. “I don’t know what I feel, Diana.”

“You realize that you invite him to hang out every week. You know all of his children by name. You agreed to this ‘fake dating’ thing in the first place.”

Shaking his head, he said, “I’ve never thought about him like that before.”

“Or perhaps you simply never _let_ yourself.”

“Superman,” a voice above them said. He looked up to see J’onn standing there, a soft expression on his face. “He is awake.”

Clark immediately stood, then glanced back at Diana, who smiled reassuringly. He took a deep breath to compose himself and entered the infirmary, shutting the door behind him.

Bruce laid across the bed, gauze and bandages lining the right side of his body, staring up at Clark with a bored expression. Clark stood there for several moments, squirming uncomfortably under the scrutinizing stare.

“So,” Clark began, clearing his throat. “Do you remember everything?”

“Disabled the bombs, didn’t get the last one, explosion,” he narrated dully. “Yeah, I remember.”

Clark watched him for a moment, pondering whether to say what was next on his mind.

“Is there a problem?” Bruce asked in a very Batman voice.

“‘It wasn’t fake to me,’” Clark murmured, echoing Bruce’s words from earlier.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You said that to me, after the explosion.”

Bruce looked irritated. “And why would I say that?”

“Because you have feelings for me.”

His expression wavered slightly. “I was delirious.”

“Right. Because I am _so_ easy to confuse with Catwoman.”

“Hilarious. If you’re done demeaning me, do excuse yourself from here. I believe I’m due for a week of bedrest.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I feel the same way about you.”

Obviously, Clark didn’t expect Bruce to leap into his arms at the declaration, but he didn’t expect him to say, “Don’t be stupid, Clark.”

He blinked in confusion. “Uh, what?”

“Don’t pretend to love me. I don’t need your pity.” His voice was rough, ragged.

Clark’s eyes widened. “What? I’m not pitying you, Bruce. I want this. I want _us_.”

“No, Clark, that’s what _I_ want.”

“Do you honestly think that I’m incapable of knowing my own feelings?”

“Considering that you’ve never shown any interest in me before this moment, yes.”

“I just hadn’t considered it before. It’s not like you’ve been completely transparent with your feelings either.”

“Because I knew my feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated.” His stoic resolve crumbled, and his eyes filled with pain, desperation, hurt.

“You think you know everything about me, don’t you? How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because I’m not _worthy_!” Bruce burst out, then recoiled, looking away. “That’s why you pity me. You’re everything anyone could want, and I’m just—”

The words disappeared into Bruce’s mouth as Clark kissed him, gently but insistently, cupping the back of his head. Bruce didn’t resist, and soon he leaned back into his lips.

When they pulled apart, there were tears in Clark’s eyes. “Screw you, Bruce,” he whispered, hands trembling. “How can you think so lowly of yourself? You’re my best friend, you’re everything to me, you’re worth a thousand of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce murmured.

“Don’t be. Just… know how I feel about you. How amazing I think you are.” He hesitantly reached for Bruce’s hand. “Will you give this a chance? Us?”

Bruce laced his fingers with Clark's, and this time, there were no cameras.

**Author's Note:**

> apparently i wrote this fic in 2014 as i just discovered it in my high school journal


End file.
